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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28811973">inedia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/esqers/pseuds/esqers'>esqers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Food as a Metaphor for Love, Horror has a Time(tm), M/M, Mental Breakdown, Starvation, bad sans poly - Freeform, but more focused on Horror and Cross</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:53:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28811973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/esqers/pseuds/esqers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Horror.” He was halfway out of the room before Nightmare’s voice reached him. He stopped instinctively at the call of his name, inclining his head. “Have you eaten yet?”</p>
<p>Horror made a noise in the back of his not-throat, something inquisitive. “Yeah.”</p>
<p>He didn’t lie; he’d eaten. ...when was that again? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the others had a warm meal to fill them up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sans/Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>252</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>inedia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>not eating absolutely fucks you up, guys, and ive written this as a sort of vent when i had no means to eat for a while, so please do me a favor and even if youre not hungry, make sure to eat at LEAST twice a day, if you can♥</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Horror peered down into his steaming pan, impassive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smell of meat wafted through the kitchen. Spices, herbs, vegetables. All added to form a stir fry that everyone would enjoy. All added mechanically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hand holding the handle didn’t feel like Horror’s. He stirred the mixture once, twice more for good measure, and then turned the burner off. Four plates of rice already waited on the counter for him to scrape the meal onto.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He put the pan into the sink and stared at the plates for a moment, not moving, not blinking. He shook his head and rubbed under his working eyelight, though the hand found its way to his old wound. The edges no longer bled when he clawed at them, only a light coat of dust left upon the phalanges afterwards. It was wiped against the fabric of his already-stained hoodie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took the plates to the table two at a time, but even that took a toll on him. He was tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lunchtime!” he called into the — surprising — silence of the castle, on the third attempt, when the word deigned to sound like a word instead of a low, choked rasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Usually, he’d go around the hallways and gather everyone, but that prospect seemed just a bit too daunting to him right then, so he grabbed at the backrest of the closest chair and waited for them to trickle in, one by one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And they did; Cross first, oh-so-used to orders, and then Dust, whose room was the closest. Killer wandered in a while later, sightless gaze lingering on Horror until he snapped out of whatever mental block he backed himself into and let go of the chair so Killer could take his preferred seat. Killed said something — something that pulled a laugh out of Dust, from the way his shoulders shook — but Horror couldn’t parse any of the actual words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His acoustic meatuses rang a tone too long for him to register anymore, and only stopped once Nightmare made his appearance and sat at the head of the table. They were all there and had a plate of warm food in front of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Horror nodded, almost to himself, only satisfied after he’d double checked and triple counted the plates.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Horror.” He was halfway out of the room before Nightmare’s voice reached him. He stopped instinctively at the call of his name, inclining his head. “Have you eaten yet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Horror made a noise in the back of his not-throat, something inquisitive. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nightmare’s single eyelight met Horror’s, and they stared at each other for a while. Nightmare’s stare was heavy and chilled to the bone, but Horror was already cold and simply blinked back at him, not one for a staring contest. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Horror’s sluggish mind, Nightmare looked down at his plate and picked up a fork.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Horror was free to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His feet carried him towards the gate, beaten sneakers dragging along tile and carpet. The old, large thing opened with a loud screech, letting in a soft breeze. He stepped out into the dark garden, getting mud all over his sneakers in the process.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t lie; he’d eaten.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...when was that again? It didn’t matter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What mattered was that the others had a warm meal to fill them up. The cupboards and the fridge were almost empty when he’d cooked it, the only things left being mostly the spices and herbs, but those wouldn’t make a meal on their own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood there, in the middle of the walkway between an empty patch and the line of Dust’s flowers, until his bones were rattling loud enough to be audible over the wind. He was cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...why did he come outside again?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Horror.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned his head to see Cross coming closer, his jacket flapping around wildly. Oh, the wind must’ve picked up. Horror’s teeth chattered. He hadn’t noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cross came to a stop a few paces away from him, something held in his hand and a strained smile on his skull. “Hey,” he said, and his tone sounded like the first time he’d talked to Horror, when he’d thought him no more than a carnivorous beast. Horror would’ve gotten mad, if he’d had the energy to spare. “I got you this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Horror blinked and looked down from Cross’ face to see him holding out a bar of chocolate, the wrapper purple and a small purple cow peeking from where Cross’ fingers covered it. Horror’s gaze flicked up before zeroing on the chocolate again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t even notice as his hand found its way to his face, two phalanges hooking at the rim of his empty socket, tugging at the bone as he thought. He couldn’t take Cross’ chocolate. They barely had food as it was, and he’d need it more than Horror ever could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or it was a trap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he’d somehow poisoned it, Horror would be an easy target to take down without a fight. Maybe he’d been sent by Nightmare, who knew what was going on, and who’d decided Horror’s usefulness had come and gone now that there was nothing else to cook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something creaked and echoed in his skull cavity and then Cross’ hand pulled his away from the eyesocket he’d been unconsciously trying to rip a chunk out of. The strained smile he’d wore was even more strained now, browbones furrowed as he held Horror’s hand down between them, where he couldn’t claw at his skull anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...keep it,” Horror muttered, doing his best not to look at Cross’ other hand and succumb to the temptation. His non-existent stomach was doing cartwheels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cross frowned, and sneakily wormed his phalanges in between Horror’s. “We can share it,” he promised, using his teeth to rip the wrapper off. Horror’s single pupil shrank at the display, and he was too stunned to notice when Cross broke off a piece of the chocolate and shoved it between his open teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His tongue met the melting confection and his SOUL gave a harsh jerk in his ribcage at the influx of magic, and another one at the intent radiating off of Cross’ action. Cross’ smile turned a bit lopsided, a bit softer. Horror wasn’t sure what he was feeling off of himself, but it was most probably nothing at all, with how weak his magic felt. Cross didn’t say anything, though. He popped a piece in his own mouth before feeding Horror more, still holding his hand and offering no easy way out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the fourth exchange, Horror looked off to the side, guilt clawing down his spine. “...you shouldn’t have wasted… it on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cross bit through his piece, humming as if in contemplation. He licked off a stray piece of it stuck to his tooth and gently tugged Horror back towards the main door. “I have a lot of it,” which technically wasn’t a lie, he just went through his stash faster than was probably healthy. Not that Horror, of all people, could ever blame him. “And it’s not a waste. Not on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Horror opened his mouth to retort, tell him it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d gone longer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>longer with no food, but nothing came out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should’ve told us we were running low on supplies,” Cross told him, a small spark of… disappointment? flashing across his feature, there and gone before Horror could work himself into a frenzy over it. “We can go and get more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cross said it like he knew it to be true, but Horror grit his teeth, his phalanges digging into Cross’ where they were still tangled together. Where would they get supplies? There were none in the Underground, and even if there were, the empr— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cross had to pull his other hand down when he’d started clawing at his injury again, and now they were holding both hands like some idiots who didn’t know to keep their hands empty in case of an ambush, standing… standing on… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The porch of Nightmare’s castle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about you come with me, we can go to an Outertale universe, they have that really good ice cream,” Cross offered, and Horror could’ve cried when he realized Cross was </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they could </span>
  <em>
    <span>go and get more food</span>
  </em>
  <span>, whenever they needed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, because his voice refused to cooperate, stuck somewhere down at the base of one of his vertebrae. Cross let go of one of his hands in return, but squeezed the other one that much harder, as if to make up for it. Horror’s hand was no longer cold, warmed by the touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After you eat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Horror could only nod again; he let himself be led back towards the kitchen, where the others were waiting for them, looking over with varying degrees of concern when they stepped through the threshold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Were Horror a lesser monster, he would’ve started crying when he saw that they’d all left some of their food and shoved their plates towards the spot he usually sat at. But he wasn't, so he didn't. He saved the crying for when he was alone, and there was no one but Nightmare to see (or sense) his relief and love.</span>
</p>
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